


Taking Care

by inkand_paper (Fabuest)



Category: Transformers Generation One
Genre: Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-28
Updated: 2012-12-28
Packaged: 2017-11-22 17:21:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,324
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/612313
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fabuest/pseuds/inkand_paper
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Spike is feeling lonely, but Hound is there to take care of him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Taking Care

**Author's Note:**

> Written to go with [this art](http://robot-heart.com/arts/tf_xeno1.png) by [livejournal.com profile] spacehussy.

He found Hound laying across a rock outcropping, watching the stars. The mech turned his helm when Spike approached, blue optics glowing softly in the darkness. "It's beautiful, isn't it?" he asked, stretching a hand out toward him.

Spike allowed himself to be pulled close to Hound's side. Looking up at the sky, he smiled, but it felt fake. "It is," he agreed, and at least that was real. The stars were beautiful here, it was true. They were just... different.

Hound frowned, nudging him gently with a finger. "You're not happy here."

"It's not that," Spike argued. "It's just..." He hadn't realised how long it would take. Sparkplug had gone on a few tours of duty, back home, and he'd been away for two years at a time. Spike had thought it would be like that. They hadn't been on this planet long - only a few days, local time. But he'd been gone from home seven years, already. Seven years just to get here, and it would take another seven to go back. "Don't you ever miss home?" he asked.

"Well, sure," Hound said. "I miss Cybertron all the time. But Earth is beautiful too, and so is this planet, in its own way. And if we hadn't left Cybertron, we'd never have met you."

Spike sighed, leaning comfortably against Hound's side. Seven years was a long time, for a human, and he and Hound had gotten close - closer than Sparkplug would approve of, that was for sure, but there were no other humans here to judge him for it, and Windcharger and Beachcomber didn't seem to care one way or the other. "I guess so," he agreed.

"You're homesick?" Hound guessed.

"No." Spike didn't miss Earth that much. It was a nice place, but he'd been excited to leave it, and he was still just as excited to be here. It was just that there was no life on this planet. There were no aliens, sentient, sapient, or otherwise; only Spike, Hound, Beachcomber, and Windcharger. "I'm lonely," he admitted.

Hound sat up and touched Spike's shoulder gently. "I know," he said. "It's hard for us too. But we have each other, and that helps."

Spike nodded. He knew that Hound and the minibots had interfaced during their journey, and often. He hadn't voiced it, but he'd been jealous; he'd wished, more than once, that he could join them in the deep intimacy of their hardline connections. But he could have the next best thing. "Hound," he said, taking off the helmet of his exosuit. (It was more of a precaution anyway; they'd found when they arrived on this planet that the atmosphere was breathable for a human.)

He didn't have to say anything more. The 'I want you' went unspoken, but Hound understood anyway. He lifted Spike easily, and Spike leaned forward to kiss him, molding his lips to the shape of Hound's and sweeping his tongue over the smooth inner surface when Hound opened his mouth. He'd long since gotten used to the difference in size and texture compared to kissing another human, and the warm, solid metal plates were reassuring now. Hound kissed him back, as careful and gentle as ever, and Spike relaxed with a sigh, tension draining from his shoulders.

They kissed, Spike's hands wandering over Hound's faceplates and neck cables while Hound massaged his back, waves of static prickling over his skin where Hound's EM field interacted with the suit's, until the slowly heating metal under Spike's lips became too hot to touch comfortably. He pulled back, panting, one hand still resting on Hound's cheek. Hound's optics were flushed with warm light, and his engine was rumbling with all the quiet power of the all-terrain vehicle he transformed into.

"We should head back," Hound suggested. "It's warmer inside; you can take off your armour."

"No," Spike said, shaking his head. "I want you here. Now. All to myself."

For a moment, Hound looked like he was going to protest. Then he smiled. "Okay. All right." Setting Spike's feet back on the ground, Hound shifted carefully from sitting to kneeling, his thighs spread wide enough to easily accommodate Spike's frame. "Come here," he said, beckoning. "Turn around."

Spike did as he was directed, and when Hound nudged at his shoulders he bent over without hesitation. With anyone else, the position might have been humiliating, but this was Hound; his EM field was swirling around Spike, sending tingling static caresses up and down his back, his arms, his chest, and Spike couldn't have felt humiliated if he'd tried.

"Bend your legs a little, and put your hands on the ground," Hound instructed, shuffling forward on his knees as Spike complied. His pelvic plating came close enough to the aft of Spike's exosuit that he could feel the heat emanating from it even through his armour, along with a tickle of static over his cheeks and between his legs, and Spike pressed back, gasping.

A gust of hot air from Hound's vents ruffled Spike's hair, and then Hound's hands were settling around his thighs, solid and warm and gentle. "I'm going to lift your legs up," Hound said. "Ready?"

Spike braced himself, then nodded. "Yeah." A few moments later, his weight shifted forward onto his arms as his legs were lifted up around Hound's waist.

"Are you comfortable?" Hound asked.

"Umm," Spike said, lowering his weight onto his forearms so that his back curved and the aft of his exosuit was angled up against Hound's codpiece. He wiggled a bit, just to be sure, and nodded again. "There."

"You look so good like that," Hound murmured, his voice nearly covering the quiet click of his codpiece opening. His cable slid out between Spike's thighs and under his groin, hot and fully pressurised. Spike moaned, shifting his hips as the tingling of static turned to an almost tangible electric pressure where Hound's heavily charged cable pressed against his armour. Hound rocked experimentally, and Spike squirmed and swore at the shifting field over his nether regions.

"Spike? Are you okay?" Hound asked.

"I'm fine. I'm fine," Spike said. "Just don't stop."

Hound's field flicked out to momentarily envelop Spike in sensation, and he shifted his grip to support Spike's weight at the waist with one hand while the other braced against the ground.

"Just relax," he told Spike. "I'm here for you. I'll take care of you."

Then he started moving; long, slow rolls of his hips between Spike's legs, and all Spike could do was close his eyes and let his body rock with Hound's movements. He shuddered with each pass of Hound's cable beneath him, biting his lip to keep from crying out, though there was no one else around to hear and he knew Hound didn't mind. Hound's EM field caressed him, warm vents of air running through his hair like fingers and quiet words ringing in his ears.

"You're not alone," Hound promised; "you'll never be alone. I love you, Spike, I'm here."

Spike lost track of what Hound was saying sometime after that; he thought the Transformer might have switched to Cybertronian at some point, but as long as he was wrapped in a cocoon of sound and electric sensation and gentle, rocking motion, he didn't mind. He was with Hound, and that meant he was safe, and not alone.

Eventually, Hound went stiff, his vocaliser silent and energy field clamped down tight around him. Spike waited a few moments, then pushed himself up and rolled over. There was fluid splashed across the front of his suit, and the apex of his thighs was shiny with lubricant. Hound's optics flickered as Spike watched, and then he reached for Spike, frowning. "You didn't...?"

"Shh," Spike said, fishing through Hound's subspace for a cleaning rag in a trick the mech had taught him once, after their second time together. "It's okay. Lay back. Let me take care of you."


End file.
